First Impressions
by Iridian of the Shadows
Summary: Everyone always said that first impressions were wrong with time, that we shouldn't judge people like that. Kisame disagrees, if only for this reason... KisaIta


When I was introduced to the boy who would be my partner until one of us was killed, I must say that I was more than a little dubious. He was tiny, effeminate, not anything like what one thinks an S-ranked missing-nin should look like. And he was so unbelievably young. What, 13, maybe?

My first impression was simple: Fragile. He was so much smaller than me, and had so much less muscle mass, it was hard to think anything else. Uchiha Itachi was his name. And the moment he opened his mouth to say so it became very obvious that he wasn't fragile at all. His voice was cool, his face frozen. He suddenly seemed disproportionately strong, and stubborn. He was also silent.

He proved the same in battle. His ability astounded me to the point where it was hard to believe that I had ever thought him fragile. But still, in the back of my mind, it persisted. FRAGILE. Even though he wasn't.

Then, after Orochimaru was kicked out of the organization, Leader called me in to tell me the truth about why. He had caught Orochimaru raping Itachi, whom he had tied up and blindfolded. The poor boy wasn't even given the slightest chance of escape. I was paralyzed.

The thought of my unbelievably strong (fragile) partner being raped; I just couldn't stand it. And that was strange, seeing as how I was a serial rapist when I was younger. It was because of their catching me that I was shrugged from the Mist. I had seen a lot of people raped; boys and girls alike. But Itachi... just seemed so untouchable.

Though I was still in shock, Leader told me to watch him carefully. It was highly possible that Itachi would attempt to commit suicide. This I knew; plenty of my victims had done so. But again, Itachi seemed beyond that to me. Leader warned me to be careful about touching him, or saying anything about it. As much as people like to think that Leader doesn't care about the rest of us, he really does have a compassionate heart. He IS working for world peace, even if it is a demented form of such. He thinks it's right, though we know differently. Most of us were only in the organization because it involved killing stuff. I told him I would be cautious, and he let me go.

I did watch Itachi very carefully after that. I didn't want him dead, and I was beginning to understand why. I was falling in love with his silent ways, his subtle mood changes that only I seemed to see, his effeminate looks, his obsession with dango, and his deeply caring heart. Oh, he liked to try to cover it up, but he would never kill an opponent unless necessary. He said it was too bothersome; I knew otherwise. He didn't belong in the Akatsuki, but he was there. I told myself that one day I would know, but I knew it unlikely.

Despite my prying eyes, he was the same as before. Every slight hand movement, the ones I had memorized so long ago, were unchanged. His physical demeanor was untouched. It seemed as though he had simply put it behind him. I didn't believe it, not really: but I hoped so. For his sake.

Then, months later, we were separated during a mission. We were hunting down a group of 'Unidentified Miscreants.' We didn't know what they were doing, and I'm not sure Leader did either. All we knew was that someone had enlisted our help to get rid of them. So we were going to.

The whole time we were separated, I was trying frantically to find him. My feelings for him had bloomed by then, and I was truly and deeply in love. I was killing myself-and possibly the mission- hunting him down. I ducking into a subway station and took a left. There was an area that was basically a room without the door or the wall that it went on. I saw some movement, and stalled. It looked like a writhing mass, from where I was standing. It was too far away to see anything particular.

Then I heard a "NO!" from the pile, and my heart stopped. It was Itachi. And he was in danger. I rushed forward, and as I got closer I could see that the writhing mass was really a bunch of men surrounding a young boy with his slashed hitae-ate covering his eyes. I saw, briefly, that they were holding his arms and that one of them was in the process of taking off his pants. I roared, attacking that one first. The others hadn't a chance in hell. NO ONE rapes my Itachi! was the only thought going through my head. He dropped to the ground, pulling himself into himself. He was hunched up in a ball, leaning forward as he clutched his hands to his shoulders. He was shaking. His shirt was already off.

I kneeled down next to him, laying Samehada on the ground. He flinched away from the sound. He looked so pathetic like that. So sad. My heart leapt into my mouth, and I put my hands out to touch him. As soon as my skin brushed his, he jerked away, whimpering. My mouth gaped open in a hurts-too-much-to-be-voiced cry.

"Itachi," I said, "Itachi, it's me. Kisame."

I almost didn't hear him say, "Ki-Kisame?" His voice was so tiny, so hurt, that for a moment I didn't recognize it.

"Yeah. It's me," I encouraged. I slowly reached out and put one hand on his shoulder. I'm not sure what happened inside of him then, but he suddenly flung himself into my arms, sobbing and clinging to me like a newborn child to his mother's breast. His little, lithe body was wracked by sobs, not only for what had almost happened but for the memories it had brought up. I held him lightly, letting him cry. I slowly removed the hitae-ate covering his eyes, and it fell away. This gone, he looked up at me through his tears. His black eyes were clear, his face flushed. The tears coursing down his face were like falling diamonds. And the pain in his eyes, the pain that I had seen so many times, crushed my soul into the ground.

I breathed in raggedly, suddenly, at seeing it. I don't know what made me do it, but I bent down and embraced him in a hug that, had I squeezed just a little bit more, would have broken his bones. But he seemed like he felt comforted somehow, even though he knew my past. He nestled back into my chest and commenced sobbing. I just held him, as tight as I dared, my lips on the top of his head. And the word that had been at the back of my mind popped forward, and I didn't push it away.

It seemed as though Itachi truly was fragile. But only for me.

I breathed in his smell, and hugged him a little harder.


End file.
